WALTER New York ain’t got nothing Chicago ain’t. Just a bunch of hustling people all squeezed up together—being “Eastern.”
(He turns his face into a screw of displeasure)
80 WALTER Plenty of times.
RUTH (Shocked at the lie) Walter Lee Younger!
WALTER (Staring her down) Plenty! (Pause) What we got to drink in this house? Why don’t you offer this man some refreshment. (To GEORGE) They don’t know how to entertain people in this house, man.
GEORGE Thank you—I don’t really care for anything.
WALTER (Feeling his head; sobriety coming) Where’s Mama?
RUTH She ain’t come back yet.
WALTER (Looking MURCHISON over from head to toe, scrutinizing his carefully casual tweed sports jacket over cashmere V-neck sweater over soft eyelet shirt and tie, and soft slacks, finished off with white buckskin shoes) Why all you college boys wear them faggoty-looking white shoes?
(GEORGE MURCHISON ignores the remark)
WALTER (To RUTH) Well, they look crazy as hell—white shoes, cold as it is.
RUTH (Crushed) You have to excuse him—
WALTER No he don’t! Excuse me for what? What you always excusing me for! I’ll excuse myself when I needs to be excused! (A pause) They look as funny as them black knee socks Beneatha wears out of here all the time.
RUTH It’s the college style, Walter.
WALTER Style, hell. She looks like she got burnt legs or something!
WALTER (An irritable mimic) Oh, Walter! Oh, Walter! (To MURCHISON) How’s your old man making out? I understand you all going to buy that big hotel on the Drive? (He finds a beer in the refrigerator, wanders over to MURCHISON, sipping and wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and straddling a chair backwards to talk to the other man) Shrewd move. Your old man is all right, man. (Tapping his head and half winking for emphasis) I mean he knows how to operate. I mean he thinks big, you know what I mean, I mean for a home, you know? But I think he’s kind of running out of ideas now. I’d like to talk to him. Listen, man, I got some plans that could turn this city upside down. I mean think like he does. Big. Invest big, gamble big, hell, lose big if you have to, you know what I mean. It’s hard to find a man on this whole Southside who understands my kind of thinking—you dig? (He scrutinizes MURCHISON again, drinks his beer, squints his eyes and leans in close, confidential, man to man) Me and you ought to sit down and talk sometimes, man. Man, I got me some ideas …
GEORGE (With boredom) Yeah—sometimes we’ll have to do that, Walter.
WALTER (Understanding the indifference, and offended) Yeah—well, when you get the time, man. I know you a busy little boy.
WALTER (Bitterly, hurt) I know ain’t nothing in this world as busy as you colored college boys with your fraternity pins and white shoes …
100 RUTH (Covering her face with humiliation) Oh, Walter Lee—
WALTER I see you all all the time—with the books tucked under your arms—going to your (British A—a mimic) “clahsses.” And for what! What the hell you learning over there? Filling up your heads—(Counting off on his fingers)—with the sociology and the psychology—but they teaching you how to be a man? How to take over and run the world? They teaching you how to run a rubber plantation or a steel mill? Naw—just to talk proper and read books and wear them faggoty-looking white shoes …
GEORGE (Looking at him with distaste, a little above it all) You’re all wacked up with bitterness, man.
WALTER (Intently, almost quietly, between the teeth, glaring at the boy) And you—ain’t you bitter, man? Ain’t you just about had it yet? Don’t you see no stars gleaming that you can’t reach out and grab? You happy?—You contented son-of-a-bitch—you happy? You got it made? Bitter? Man, I’m a volcano. Bitter? Here I am a giant—surrounded by ants! Ants who can’t even understand what it is the giant is talking about.
RUTH (Passionately and suddenly) Oh, Walter—ain’t you with nobody!
WALTER (Violently) No! ’Cause ain’t nobody with me! Not even my own mother!
RUTH Walter, that’s a terrible thing to say!
(BENEATHA enters, dressed for the evening in a cocktail dress and earrings, hair natural)
GEORGE Well—hey—(Crosses to BENEATHA; thoughtful, with emphasis, since this is a reversal) You look great!
WALTER (Seeing his sister’s hair for the first time) What’s the matter with your head?
BENEATHA (Tired of the jokes now) I cut it off, Brother.
WALTER (Coming close to inspect it and walking around her) Well, I’ll be damned. So that’s what they mean by the African bush …
BENEATHA Ha ha. Let’s go, George.
GEORGE (Looking at her) You know something? I like it. It’s sharp. I mean it really is. (Helps her into her wrap)
RUTH Yes—I think so, too. (She goes to the mirror and starts to clutch at her hair)
WALTER Oh no! You leave yours alone, baby. You might turn out to have a pin-shaped head or something!
BENEATHA See you all later.
GEORGE Thanks. Good night. (Half out the door, he reopens it. To WALTER) Good night, Prometheus!
(BENEATHA and GEORGE exit)